


Perfect Henry

by SansyG12



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bendy Hates Henry, Bendy can draw and animate, Canon Compliant, Chapter 1 is legit just Chapter 1 of the game, F/M, Gen, Henry is perfect bendy, Joey is the Ink Demon, M/M, Norman crushing on Sammy be like, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poor Bendy (Bendy and the Ink Machine), Sammy Lawrence Lives, Sammy is the protag, Sammy swears, Sammy went to war, Spoilers, Wally is Boris, i can't tag, no beta we die like komaeda, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29391900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansyG12/pseuds/SansyG12
Summary: Henry Stein left for war 30 years ago, leaving the animating team and Bendy behind. That is a little fact that Bendy loathes with a passion, ever since his creator abandoned him. According to Joey, Bendy was brought to the real world the day after Henry left to fight in the war. The next week, Sammy Lawrence was drafted and the studio lost another important member. Bendy hated the war, he hated the ink demon, and he especially hated Henry Stein for leaving him.
Relationships: Joey Drew/Henry Stein (if you squint), Sammy Lawrence/Norman Polk, Sammy Lawrence/Norman Polk (slight), not really slight Sammy Lawrence/Norman Polk
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. Back to the Studio

Sammy slammed the car door behind him, walking up to the decrepit building before him. A sign hung high above the door, reading the familiar words that Sammy used to walk under every day.

“Joey Drew Studios, man you really fucked up if this is what happened to the place,” Sammy muttered, kicking a floorboard that had been previously attached to a window.

He pulled out the note that Joey Drew, his old boss, sent him.

_Dear Sammy,_

_It’s been a while, hasn’t it? It’s been thirty long years since we last crossed paths. I have something at the studio you would love to see, and perhaps we could catch up? It has been rather lonely ever since you got drafted._

_Hope to see you soon,_

_Joey Drew_

Sammy snorted, reading the last line of the note. “You make it sound like you’re talking to Henry, not me.”

He tucked the note away and opened the door, briefly musing about how it was unlocked. He did not dwell on it for long, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“Alright Joey Drew, let’s see what you hid away here for me.”

He wandered forward into the lobby, musing that it was quite like how he remembered. He did not remember the projector sitting in the lobby.

“What’s this doing here?” He asked himself, walking towards it and examining it. He could immediately tell that Norman didn’t set it up. The projected screen was on an angle, and there wasn’t even a film real in it. Norman never turns on a projector without a film in it. It took Sammy a second to realize who he was thinking about.

“Damn Projectionist,” Sammy muttered, stomping away through the hall on the right. Turning the corner left a little shocked.

**DREAMS COME TRUE**

Sammy blinked at the message on the wall, wondering what it’s doing here.

“Where’s Wally when you need him?” He grumbled to himself, glaring at the ink-stained wall as if it personally offended him.

He kept along the pathway, duly noting how there was a metal grate blocking him from Wally’s workshop and his theatre. He tested the door to the wreck room and found that it was locked.

“Well, that’s a little odd.” He mumbled, continuing.

He couldn’t help but remember that the door didn’t have a lock.

Continuing on lead him to almost tripping over a large pipe on the ground, instead, he stumbled over it and turned to glare at the offending object.

“Who the hell would put a pipe there!” Sammy screeched.

He then realized that there was nothing said pipe should connect to. Sammy could see the ink pumping through it and knew that nothing in the studio needed that much ink.

“Why the hell would someone put a pipe here?” Sammy asked himself, looking for a source. He noticed a room at the very end of his pathway.

He walked towards it, a dim thought lighting in his mind.

Why was he guided here?

He walked into the room and immediately noticed it’s scale. There was never anything like this in the studio. Actually, this room (and the previous hallway) never existed when he was here. It didn’t even look like it existed from the outside.

The next thing he noticed was that he was on a raised balcony, the clutter making his tongue click. His eyes skated over the clean balcony and noticed the dark pit in the centre of the room. Chains lead down to the pitch-black darkness and Sammy couldn’t help but wonder what was down there.

“Now what am I supposed to do?” He muttered, looking around for answers.

His eyes caught a note on the balcony, pinned there by a glob of ink.

“What the-? This wasn’t here before.” He picked up the note, reading the words on it.

ACTIVATE THE POWER CORE

Sammy looked at a weird contraption with two gaps in the side. He could guess that it was the power core. So he needed to find batteries or something. Simple enough.

“This better be worth it Joey.” He grumbled under his breath picking up something with an electricity sign on it. He slotted it into a gap and it fit perfectly. He found the other one in a trunk with a gear. He placed it in and looked for the next step. His eyes caught a lever with a note on it.

“I could have sworn there wasn’t a note on this thing.”

The note said otherwise.

PULL THE LEVER

He shouldn’t have pulled the lever.

Immediately the chains started to pull whatever they were holding up, a shape emerging from the darkness. Sammy couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe, watching a machine rise from the darkness.

_The Ink Machine_

He let that name sit in his mind, deciding it was fitting for a machine like this.

A new note was on the doorframe when he turned around. Where were these things coming from?

TURN ON THE INK MACHINE

He ignored it and continued walking, deciding he saw enough stuff to know Joey was up to something big. When he walked past the hall the metal gate was blocking he did a double-take. It was open.

“I thought I was the only one here?”

He walked through the gate, bent on making it to the theatre. He wanted to make sure his instruments and materials were in shape. When a locked door barred his way, he grumbled.

“I’m going to have to go through Wally’s workshop…”

He stormed in the opposite direction, ignoring the tape and just continuing. He made it to the crossroads, about to turn into Wally’s workshop, when he paused.

There were no crossroads.

He looked right, noticing another room that was never there before. He walked inside and noticed the pedestals.

“Not another of Joey’s weird rituals.” He groaned.

He noticed that the wall in front of him told him about the Ink machine and he grumbled. He was going to have to grab whatever was needed.

He stomped out, almost running into a Bendy cut out.

“What the fuck! Who put this thing here?” Sammy yelped.

He pushed the cut out away and walked back towards the normal entrance of his studio. Maybe the tape would give him clues.

He failed to notice the poor dog on the table.

_“At this point, I don't get what Joey's plan is for this company. The animations sure aren't being finished on time anymore, the music sounds like a chalkboard, and I certainly don't see why we need this...machine. It's noisy, it's messy, and who needs that much ink anyway? Also, get this: Joey had each one of us ‘donate’ something from our work stations. We put them on these little pedestals in the break room. ‘To help appease the gods’, Joey says. ‘Keep things going’. I think he's lost his mind, but, hey, he writes the checks. But I tell you what, if one more of these pipes burst, I'm outta here.”_

Sammy let out a small chuckle at that last phrase. I’m outta here was Wally’s catchphrase back in the day. He was always saying that.

“So everyone’s workstations then… right. It’ll be easy.”

He turned to the corridor that held the theatre, immediately knowing that he was going in there first. He strode forwards making it to the door quickly and entering.

He was extremely disappointed.

The trumpet he kept for music was nowhere to be found, the chairs were strewn everywhere, the ink splattered across the floor, the projector was on but nobody was operating it, and the piano was missing. It just looked like it had been abandoned in a hurry, nothing like how he left it.

“Whoever Joey replaced me with, screw you.” He grumbled, kicking a chair with his foot. A soft squeak alerted him to something on the chair, and his eyes landed on a doll.

“Is this… this looks like something Shawn would make.”

Shawn used to be the town’s toymaker down the road and was great at plushies most of all. Sammy hung out with Shawn a few times when invited by Wally who would also bring Grant, Norman, and Murray. Henry sometimes tagged along and always brought Joey with him. Or more like Joey found out and dragged Henry to the hangout. Back then they worked more like a group of friends than a boss and his employees.

He pocketed the doll, briefly remembering that there was an image of a doll on the wall.

The wrench he could figure out, deciding to take the shortcut to Wally’s Workshop.

He shouldn’t have.

“What the- What the fuck!” He screeched, staring at what was once a workbench. It was propped up like an operating table, with something very disturbing on it.

Boris.

Literally, Boris the wolf.

The same one from the show.

Just now he was in real life and dead with Wally’s wrench sticking from his poor cartoony chest. Sammy, despite all the horrors he had seen in the war, had never seen this.

He blocked everything out and focused on the wrench. He slowly grabbed it, lifting it out of the wolf’s chest.

“Sorry buddy, but it needs to be done.”

He continued to hold the wrench, turning away from the gruesome sight and walking out of the room.

He just found out that someone, even if they were a toon, was hurt by Joey. What else happened while he was gone?

Who else did Joey hurt?

He strode into the ink machine room quickly, determined to do something about it. It was only when he saw there was no way to get close to the machine did he have second thoughts.

“Damnit.”

He grumbled, picking up the gear in the chest. He strode out, heading for the ‘animation department’. It was really just a desk in the corner near the stairs. It was because Joey insisted that the working staff be stationed downstairs and the literal desk jobs like Grant’s budgeting and Joey’s running of the business would happen upstairs. At the same time, he reasoned that he needed to stay close to Henry ‘to make sure Henry was working at his best rates’. Everyone knew what the guy really wanted and no one really objected. They just kind of ignored the heart bleeding side of their boss.

Until the nights they would hang out, then they all teased Joey for ‘having a heart’ and ‘being so overprotective of Henry’.

Making it to Henry’s desk was another confusing moment. A new room and the upstairs was boarded up.

“Huh, I guess they needed a whole new department to replace Henry.” He mused, walking inside.

Luckily when he left, the animation was already finished and they didn’t need an animator yet.

“God- Why is everything a mess!” Sammy yelled, glaring at the room. Paper everywhere, ink everywhere, desks everywhere, everything everywhere.

He quickly swiped an inkpot off of a desk and stormed out, heading back towards the break room. He dipped inside the room, walking down the stairs. He just realized that it had been unlocked.

“Huh? I don’t think I’m alone here…” He mumbled, walking over to a table a book.

“The Illusion of Living… never thought Joey was an author.”

Sammy quickly got out of the room, deciding that he didn’t need to go to the basement. He was just missing a record.

He noticed the small office he used to write music in and he decided it was the best possible place to find one. He was right.

“The lighter side of hell… I remember this…” It was the last one he wrote. He made sure to put plenty of effort into his final performance. He held it with care, like a mother to her child. He didn’t pack it away in his pockets like the other things but carried it with him to the room. He gently placed it on its pedestal, before moving around and putting the others in their places.

He pressed the button and the machine turned on. Until it didn’t and said he needed to turn on the ink flow.

“For fucks sake!”

He stormed to the theatre through the shortcut, trying to ignore poor Boris. Grabbing the lever, he pulled down as hard as he could.

PUMP

The ink started to pump, and Sammy went straight for the ink machine. He didn’t know why, but he thought that he needed to check it out.

It was boarded up.

“Huh?” He went closer, putting a hand on a board in an attempt to see through it.

A gloved hand clawed through a gap, a face appearing in front of him.

A demon.

He ran, jumping the pipe and sprinting through the studio for the exit.

“I gotta get the fuck out of here!” he shouted, grabbing for the open door. His foot hit the floor through the depths of ink that spilled everywhere and he went right through.

He shrieked as he fell, knowing he was going to die. He landed on his back, with a heavy thump.

“Ugh… The fuck?” He was alive?

He stood up, wincing at the soreness in his back. He noticed a tape on a nearby shelf and played it.

The voice was unfamiliar at best.

_“It's dark and it's cold and it's stuck in behind every single wall now. In some places, I swear this godforsaken ink is clear up to my knees! Whoever thought that these crummy pipes could hold up under this kind of strain either knows something about pressure I don't, or he's some kind of idiot. But the real worst part about all this... are them noises the system makes. Like a dying dog on its last legs. Make no mistake, this place... this... machine... heck, this whole darn thing... it just isn't natural. You can bet, I won't be doing any more repair jobs for Mister Joey Drew.”_

Sammy noticed a name on the tape, but that didn’t help much.

“Thomas Connor? Who the hell is that?”

He could notice the valves around the room and the ink-soaked stairway and figured out how to drain it. He had to do it a few times for separate stairwells but he made it down. At some point, he collected an axe and had to cut some boards covering a doorway. He grumbled as a thought occurred to him.

“I could have sworn there wasn’t any underground…”

He stepped into a room, noticing a pentagram and coffins… a… pentagram… and…

“Coffins?”

He walked forward, intent on checking the coffins out. As soon as his foot touched the pentagram, he got a splitting headache.

The Ink machine raised and ready.

He stumbled forward, smashing his face against a coffin and dropping his axe.

Joey’s Wheel Chair, the man nowhere to be found.

He tripped backwards, landing in the centre of the Pentagram.

Bendy, demonic with ink dripping down his face and a demonic smile.

Sammy blacked out, falling into an inky abyss of unconsciousness.

* * *

“Well well well? What have we here? I recognize the guy, but I though’ he went to war. Butcha know what, he gets to stay here for keeps. No more abandoning me and muh Pals!”

“Welcome home Sammy Lawrence~.”


	2. Conducting and Projecting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sammy wakes up after his impromptu nap. He didn't expect what he found.
> 
> He's not sure if it's something he wants either.

Sammy groaned as he woke up, rolling onto his side on the hard wood.

“What the hell…” He grumbled, slowly getting to his feet and looking at the room through bleary eyes.

He took a sideways glance at the coffins but decided that they weren’t worth the trouble. He walked to the doorway and grabbed his axe, before realizing something.

“I didn’t put my axe here… did I…”

He gripped it tighter, his war-driven instincts on high alert. He was running from a demon, collapsed on a pentagram, and now is walking around with an unknown third party watching him.

He hated being watched.

He stomped down the hall, trying to take calming breaths.

It was failing quickly.

Sammy noticed another audio log on a table, drawings all over the walls. He played it, only for a voice that was almost familiar to pierce his ears.

_“Honestly, that Joey Drew don’t know what he’s doin’ to the studio. I get that he’s the boss but does he have ta be such a shut-in like that? An what’s with everyone popping up outa nowhere. One day there was one Boris and next day I saw two of em talking to each other. And the employees are disappearin to who knows where, and I ain’t believing him when he says they left. I’ll believe it when it’s Sammy, I’ll believe it when it’s you know who, but I ain’t believing it’s anyone else. Who does he take me for? I’m gonna get to the bottom of this Joey, I ain’t letting you mess with me and muh pals anymore. Do ya agree with me?”_

Sammy looked at the name on the tape because the voice sounded so familiar, but he couldn’t place it. The name definitely didn’t help either.

Bendy.

The name on the tape was Bendy.

“What the fuck?” Sammy asked himself.

He shook it off and kept walking, before pausing when the same voice echoed around the room.

“I said, do ya agree with me?”

Sammy swung his axe around, only managing to cut a board leaning on the wall. Whoever it was, they’re gone now.

“If you really are Bendy, then stay out of my way.”

He walked down the hall, the drawings on the walls were everywhere. He sloshed through a hall that was knee-deep in Ink, grumbling to himself all the while.

His hands were itching to clean everything.

He looked up, in time to see the cartoon himself stroll across the doorway. He was whistling the tune Henry always did when focused on drawing Bendy.

“Hey!”

Sammy tried to go faster, but the ink prevented him from going so fast. Ink isn’t normally this thick. When he finally made it to the end of the hallways, just as the toon disappeared from view, he was confused. A drawing of Bendy, halfway through a wave. But the physical toon in question was gone.

“The hell? Where’d you go?”

Sammy poked around a bit, only finding a weird switch behind a pile of cans, a bendy statue, and a mechanism. A metal gate blocked his path, and he could figure out that the mechanism was to open it.

“I guess I need to find the switches.”

He flicked the switch he found, backtracking to find the others. His eye twitched when he noticed that there were new drawings around the place.

“Damned demon.”

He found the other switches fast, flicking them and going back to the metal gate. It was open. Moving through he found a place he never through he would get to see.

“Music… Department.”

Damnit, his replacement was one lucky bastard. All Sammy got was a tiny office and a theatre. His replacement, apparently, got a whole department to themselves. And still, his replacement never bothered to keep everything clean. The ink was everywhere, and Sammy was just about ready to strangle his replacement.

He investigated the room, noticing a hallway with a stairwell going down. He walked to the top of the stairs, clicking his tongue when there was no way down. Seeing a power switch beside him, he turned it on. Lights flicked on brighter and he entered the main room.

He screeched and swung his axe when something came from the Ink puddles. As whatever it was sunk back into the ink, he heard more sloshing. He was under attack.

Human-like creatures burst up all around him, their legs missing. They dragged themselves towards him, and he gripped his axe tighter. Swinging at them with his axe, he found that it only took a single hit to put them down. It didn’t take long to dispose of the last of them.

He despondently stumbled up a flight of stairs, collapsing into the chair wherever he was. He dropped the axe and put his face in his hands.

“….What the fuck is happening here….?”

He sat back in the chair, letting his hands slide off his face. He spotted an audio log on the balcony railing. He played it as he observed the room.

"Every day the same strange thing happens, I'll be up here in my booth, the band will be swinging, and suddenly Linda Stein just comes marching in and shuts the whole thing down. Tells us all to wait in the hall. Then I hears her. She starts up my projector, and she dashes from the projection booth and down to the recording studio like the little devil darlin himself was chasing behind. Few seconds later, the projector turns off. But Linda, oh no, she don't come out for a long time. This girl is weird. Crazy weird. I got half a mind to talk to Mr. Drew about all this, I really do. But then again, I have to admit. Mr. Drew's got his own peculiarities."

Linda, Henry’s little sister. So she replaced him in the music department…

Even that thought couldn’t distract him from what he heard.

Norman. Norman was still at the studio and stood in what Sammy now knows to be the projector booth. Sammy stood out of the chair, Norman’s chair, and walked to the projector. Placing his hands in familiar spots, spots he was shown a long time ago, he turned it on. Tombstone picnic played on the projector screen as his melancholic heart placed and image in front of his eyes.

He could see a band playing instruments on the stage before him. He watched as they kept their eyes on their conductor. He smiled, nodding as the melody was perfect. He continued to manipulate the projector, keeping it in working order as a song played along with the cartoon. Once the cartoon ended, the band’s conductor looked up. He looked at the conductor with a smile, a rare one he never shows. The conductor smiled back.

Reality can be cruel at the worst of times.

Sammy blinked, and the illusion was gone. The stage was empty, devoid of music and hope. The projector shut off, cutting off the light of the cartoon. Norman was gone, the stand for the conductor missing. A small fragment of a moment that never came.

Sammy took his hands from the projector, slumping back in the seat.

He hated how skilled that projectionist was when playing with his heartstrings.

The musician closed his eyes, praying for a sleep devoid of the Projectionist.

He never really got it.

* * *

In a hall so dark, not even an angel could purify its despair, an ink creature picked up an audio log. It’s inky finger hovered over the button, hesitating on playing it. A flickering light illuminated the tape, and the creature couldn’t help but run a finger over the name. The name covered in ink and the creature flinched back. Placing the tape on the ground, the inky monster continued its circuit around its domain. It’s projector head continued to play a lost hope onto the wall in front of it. The monster, before the ink, looking up at a projector booth, and smiling as the true conductor for the band smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I go on, I'm clarifying that there is no dream sharing. That's for angels, not demons. The daydream was simply Sammy asking himself "what if I didn't get drafted?" and mystery ink monster (but you all know who it is) having the same fantasy.
> 
> Also, did I say slight Sammy x Norman? I guess that flew out the window.
> 
> Please comment on this story, I love to hear what you have to say!


	3. Bendy had a Little Lamb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly audio logs. Plus Linda. And a bit of me remembering that Sammy is old now.

Sammy woke up, groaning and leaning forward. His sleep-addled mind ended that action by falling off the chair.

“F-Fuck!” He cussed, picking himself off the floor. He was too old for this.

“Joey, you are making me feel my age.”

He gripped his axe in his hand, walking out of the projector booth. He needed to get that Projectionist out of his mind.

He walked through a hallway, searching the rooms as he went. He noticed one had an organ, one was titled ‘infirmary’ and was flooded, and one was the office.

“Office of Linda Stein… so it really was Linda.”

He played the tape on the wall since there was no way he was able to open the door while two giant ink leaks were keeping it inaccessible. Yes, that was something he forgot to mention.

_“So I go to get my dustpan from the hall closet the other day and guess what? I can't find my stupid keys. It's like they disappeared into thin air or something. All I can think of is that they must have fallen in one of the garbage cans as I was making my rounds last week. I just hope nobody tells Linda. Because if she finds out I lost my keys again, I'm outta here.”_

Sammy’s gaze travelled to the janitor’s closet. He decided he wanted in.

He ducked into the other rooms again, noting nothing in the garbage cans. He ended up back in the projector booth, where he finally found the keys.

“Trust Wally to end up dragging me back here.” He grumbled.

On his way back to the office, he noticed a tape in the main hall. How did it get there? Why didn’t he notice it?

_“So first Joey installs this Ink Machine over our heads. Then it begins to leak. Three times last month, we couldn't even get out of our department because the ink had flooded the stairwell. Joey's solution? An ink pump to drain it periodically. Now I have this horribly noisy pump switch right in my office. People in and out all day. Thanks, Joey. That’s exactly what I needed. More distractions. These silly cartoon songs don't write themselves, you know. At least the devil darlin keeps me company.”_

Hearing Linda’s voice was quite a change. So now he has a growing count of people in the studio. Norman, Wally, Bendy, Linda, and the Ink Demon. Not too many people to deal with, Sammy was more of a social loner anyway.

He opened the janitor closet, immediately playing the tape on the wall.

_"Every artistic person needs a sanctuary. Joey Drew has his and I've got mine. To enter, you need only to know my favourite song.”_

_"The bass fiddle sings with deep articulation."_

_"The violin shudders with a piercing voice."_

_"The bass fiddle returns and sings aloud."_

_"The violin again screams."_

_"Sing my song and my sanctuary will open to you."_

“Great a puzzle. Just what I needed Linda.”

It took him about five minutes to actually find the door to the music room. When he got in, his jealously skyrocketed.

“How come she gets all of this and I get a crummy little theatre!” Sammy yelled, flinging his arms into the air. He winced as his old bones protested.

“God I’m old.”

He put his axe against a wall and strode to the required instruments and played them, before impatiently waiting for this “sanctuary” to open up.

While he waited, he played the tape by the piano. He was a bored and curious old man.

_“It may only be my second month working for Joey Drew, but I can already tell I'm gonna love it here! People really seem to enjoy my Alice Angel voice. Linda says she may be as popular as Bendy someday. These past few weeks I have voiced everything from talking chairs to dancing chickens. But this is the first character I really felt a connection with. Like she's a part of me. Alice and I, we are going places.”_

Checking the name on the tape, he groaned.

“Susie Campbell. Great, someone else I don’t know.”

Sammy continued waiting for the sanctuary to open, clicking his tongue when five minutes passed.

“Why isn’t it opening?” He muttered, looking up at the projection booth. He noticed the tape again, and a line immediately flashed through his mind.

**_“She starts up my projector, and she dashes from the projection booth and down to the recording studio like the little devil darlin himself was chasing behind. A few seconds later, the projector turns off. But Linda, oh no, she don't come out for a long time.”_ **

Sammy walked up to the booth again, placing his hands in the correct spots for the projector. A wiry smile adorned his face as he looked down at the stage.

“Thanks, Norman, you always seem to have my back.”

He turned it on and dashed down the stairs, running to the instruments in a hurry. He played quick notes and the metal gate finally opened.

“Fucking finally,” Sammy grumbled, storming inside and twisting a valve. The door to the office should be clear now.

He walked back out, only to get knocked onto the ground. His instincts made him roll out of the way, narrowly missing another attack.

He got to his feet, dodging grenade explosions and grabbing the axe leaning against the wall. He turned to the army in front of him, blinking as he finally noticed something. Black, not green and red. Ink, not fabric. He was against the ink monsters of the studio, not the soldiers.

He hacked at them anyway, throwing them into the ink once more with force. He was breathing heavily once he dispatched the last of them, looking up at the projector booth. A figure from the corner of his eye attracted his attention.

A woman, covered in ink, stood on the balcony beside the booth. Her face was hidden behind a Bendy mask, but he could see inky hair coming from behind the mask. She wore a black dress with gold ornaments on it, and Sammy couldn’t help but shiver. She was intense, he could already tell.

She looked away, stalking off to a place he could not see. Good riddance.

Sammy walked to the office of Linda Stein, aiming to get through the door. When he noticed that only one of the leaks were fixed, he hated everything at that moment.

“Another valve then.”

He tried the infirmary, and lo and behold, it was drained. Entering it lead to an irritating discovery.

“Great, I need to find the valve as well! Screw you, Joey.”

Pulling a lever lead him into the Utility Shaft 9, AKA: the sewers. Hoping down, lead him to find an ink creature. Its hat looked familiar, but he couldn’t figure it out for the life of him. It was holding the valve he needs though so…

“Give me that.” He snapped, striding towards it. It said something in an unintelligible language, before darting into the ink.

Sammy growled, following the swollen creature down the sewers. He ended up coming across a tape, another familiar voice that shouldn’t be here echoed down the shaft.

_"I love the quiet, and that's hard to come by these busy times. And yeah sure it may stink to high heaven down here. But it's just perfect for an old lyricist like me. Sammy’s songs always had some bounce, but if I didn't get away once in a while, they would never have had any words to go with them. And now with Linda screeching her works upstairs, peace and quiet is necessary for me. So I'll keep my mind a-singin' and my nose closed."_

Jack Fain was the lyricist that Sammy would go to when he needed lyrics for his works. He payed the man and kept referring him to Joey, telling his boss that Jack was necessary for his musical masterpieces. Seems like Jack got hired after all.

Sammy looked down the shaft, seeing the ink creature tramping around further down. Now that he had heard Jack’s voice, he could also see someone else instead of the creature.

The bowler had sat atop pale brown hair, very different from Sammy’s golden hair. The man’s skin was darker than it should be, but it was still light enough to avoid racial slurs. Brown eyes stared at a music sheet in his hands, the man chewing a pencil as he read the sheet music. The ink came to his ankles, but he was too focused to mind. He was always just a little bit shorter than Sammy, and he didn’t mind it. The man didn’t mind anything actually.

Jack Fain, standing proudly in the inky sewers.

The moment soon passed when the creature moved, and now only an inky husk remained. Sammy winced, sloshing his way over.

Joey was messing with him, there was no way this creature could be Jack.

As he came closer, J-the creature noticed him. It moved away, seeming to duck through the ink to do so. After a few minutes of hopelessly following it, Sammy had an idea. He noticed the box hanging above them and had a plan. He lured the creature so that is was just under it. Sammy lay in wait, hand on the button.

Wait for it…

…

…

Now!

Sammy pressed the button and the box dropped on the poor creature. It shrieked and dropped the valve, trying in vain to free itself. Sammy ran over and picked up the valve, avoiding the creature’s flailing limbs.

“There we go.”

The creature quieted down at his voice, before letting out a low whine. Sammy looked noticing its hat had been knocked off by its struggles. He picked it up as well, flipping it over. On the inside, a name was clear. It wasn’t even covered by the ink of the creature.

Property Of: JACK FAIN

Sammy looked at the creature, once again seeing a man under the box instead of an inky being. He blinked, getting rid of his mental image.

“Damn age, tricking me into seeing things that aren’t there.”

Sammy stalked off, turning his back to the cre- Jack.

~_~

Jack struggled more, wanting his hat and his freedom.

 **%Let Me Go!%** He growled at the box, to no avail. He should have asked Bendy to get the Ink Demon to get rid of it before it was an issue. He probably shouldn’t have grabbed that valve either, but Linda put him up to it!

He almost flung himself into the ink when the weight of the box left him.

 **%Huh?%** He muttered, looking towards where that old man walked off. The man was standing by the control switches, looking at him with an expression of pity. The man held the hat out, and Jack approached. He was careful to check for weapons and noticed he had an axe. Jack wanted his hat though, so he kept on coming closer. He snatched the hat away, retreating a safe distance.

He cherished his hat because it was the only thing left of who he was. He looked at the man again, hearing him speak.

“There you go, Jack. At least I could do something for you in your sorry state.”

The voice was older, but Jack could remember it clear as day. It was a voice from before the ink before he even met Joey Drew.

**%Sammy? Sammy Lawrence?%**

Sammy didn’t seem to understand him, simply walking back through the utility shaft with the valve in his hands.

**%Hey! Wait for me!%**

~_~

Sammy was climbing the ladder out of the sewers when an inky hand poked over the lip. Sammy almost fell, if it wasn’t for the hand grabbing him and helping him up. Sammy was face to face with Jack’s new ink-covered form.

“… What are you doing here?” Sammy asked the lyricist.

The once man gave out an undecipherable moan before staying silent again. Sammy had no clue what he was trying to say.

“I have no idea what that was, but I remember you being a lot more eloquent back in the day.”

Jack seemed to take offence to that, his groan sounding slightly irritated. Sammy needed to learn a new way to communicate with this guy.

“Are you going to be coming with me?”

Jack nodded, and Sammy was relieved. At least Jack was capable of basic problem solving like this.

“Great, then come with me.”

Sammy and Jack made their way to the office, finally being able to get in there.

“Fucking finally.”

Sammy entered the office and immediately went for the pump switch. Jack was a bit more cautious, instead avoiding the ink puddles and making it to a radio on the desk. Sammy paused when he heard the song play on the radio.

“That was one of my old songs… How’d it end up on a radio?”

Jack was too busy bouncing to the tune, no doubt thinking up lyrics to the unpublished work. Sammy hadn’t gotten around to showing anyone this one, since it never fit with a cartoon.

Sammy shook his head, pulling the switch and draining the stairs. He swiftly exited the room, making Jack scramble to catch up. Just because he’s old doesn’t mean he’s slow.

Just as he was entering the main entrance to the department, he heard Jack let out a shriek of alarm. A sharp pain split the back of his skull and he stumbled forward. He gripped the wall as the world spun around him. Slipping off the wall, he landed on his back. The lady from before leaned down over him, a wooden plank being dropped beside her. As he blacked out, he heard her words.

**_“Sheep, Sheep, Sheep, it’s time for sleep.”_ **

**_“Rest your head, it’s time for bed.”_ **

**_“In the morning, you will wake.”_ **

**_“And in the morning, you’ll be dead.”_ **

* * *

Jack watched, frozen in place, as Linda picked Sammy up. She looked at him, and Jack shrank away from her gaze. Bendy came from behind the entrance to the stairs and looked at Sammy with a worried look.

“Hey uh, Linda, ya might’ve killed him.”

Linda shook her head, already walking into the deeper parts of the studio.

“Nonsense, I simply knocked him unconscious. I cannot have him struggle on my path to appease the demon.”

“Are ya sure we should sacrifice him though? I mean, he helped Jack and he ain't that bad of a guy.”

 **%Bendy’s right Linda! You can’t sacrifice Sammy!%** Jack protested, moving closer to take Sammy away from the unstable woman.

 **“I can and I will Fain! And neither of you will stop me!”** Linda snarled, before regaining her composure once again. “Bendy, be a dear and grab that axe he left lying on the ground there. And Fain, go back to the sewers where you belong.”

As Linda strode away and Bendy grabbed Sammy’s axe, Jack grabbed Bendy by the arm.

**%Bendy, you can’t let her do it.%**

Bendy looked at Jack before looking back at where Linda took Sammy to. He gulped.

“I’ll try to stop her Jack, but I can’t promise nothin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God writing this made me think of every audio line I have. I probably need to add a spoilers tag... oh well. But hey! We finally get more Bendy action! And Jack has joined the party!

**Author's Note:**

> I know I basically gave away the twist from the start but I hope you don't care. The whole thing is mainly from Sammy's perspective.
> 
> The next chapters are basically written as I play the game. I wrote the first chapter from memory maybe a few weeks after I played Chapter 1.


End file.
